Three days later.
Aeon walked through the halls of his family's mansion, his eyes tracing the brick walls that, over the centuries, had absorbed so much mana that they'd become unnaturally durable.
Each stone carried a faint glow, lending the corridor both an ancient weight and a timeless beauty.
When he reached the library's towering doors—
"Young master."
The guards bowed respectfully. Aeon gave a small nod before pushing the doors open.
Though he'd been here countless times, the sheer scale of the library never failed to awe him—row upon row of endless shelves climbing higher than sight.
'Perks of living a long life, I guess,' Aeon muttered inwardly.
He had no idea how old his parents actually were, but he knew they were far older than most.
It was no secret among noble houses that they were considered ancients.
The reverence people showed them wasn't only because his mother had once served as priestess to the Sacred Tree, or because his father was the former king's brother—it was also because both had reached a level of mastery in their crafts few could rival.
Once, he'd asked his mother why she and his father had waited so long to come together, despite having loved each other since their youth.
Her reply had been simple:
"Because only maidens are worthy of serving the Sacred Tree."
"Aeon."
He looked up to see his father descending between the shelves, flanked by rolls of floating books drifting like will-o'-wisps.
For most elves past their prime, gray hair or a waning aura gave away their age.
But Aegnor and his wife carried neither weakness nor wear. Their hair was as lustrous as ever, their vital aura stronger than most youths—clear signs of their longevity.
Landing lightly, Aegnor walked over and ruffled Aeon's hair with a grin.
"Is there a reason you've come for me?" he asked, his words carrying the thick accent of ancient elves—an accent that hadn't been heard commonly since the Fourth Era.
"Who's looking for you?" Aeon shot back, folding his arms tightly across his chest.
The frown on his face only made him look more adorable to his father.
"I came for books."
"The library isn't yours alone, you know."
"Ahh, so I've offended you," Aegnor mused, stroking his chin theatrically. "How about I make it up to you with a trip into the fae realm?"
Aeon ignored him, his eyes drawn to the books orbiting his father.
The closest one, a heavy gray tome, bore the title Human Anatomy in elegant elven script. Others floated nearby, each centered on the same subject.
The largest volume among them was nearly half Aeon's height, its bold lettering in the common tongue spelling out: The Human Continent.
"Why the sudden interest in humans?" Aeon asked.
"The barrier around our continent will soon be lifted," Aegnor replied. "Delegates will be sent to re-establish contact with the outside world."
Aeon blinked at him, stunned.
The barrier… it had always been there. Stretching around the entire elven continent, enclosing scattered islands, diving deep into the ocean, and rising far into the skies—a colossal, transparent dome of mana. It had endured for almost three centuries.
And now—
"That can't be right," Aeon muttered.
"Many felt the same when they first heard," Aegnor said calmly. "But reconnaissance from the last century revealed something staggering—unimaginable growth and progress beyond the barrier. Especially among humans. Even now, they continue to discover new knowledge. If we don't act, the elven race may soon lag behind."
"Humans?" Aeon echoed, seizing on the one word that caught his interest.
"Believe it or not, they've risen to join the ranks of mankind's four hegemon races."
Aeon's thoughts stuttered.
'The hegemon races were elves, mermen, giants, dwarves… and now humans?'
He knew it wasn't mere numbers or wealth that earned such recognition, but the presence of three sovereigns—legendary individuals who had reached the mythical rank of [SSS].
"And that's not all," Aegnor said, grinning.
Aeon frowned at his father's deliberate pause. "What else?"
"They've created a machine that can instantly transport people and goods across continents."
Aeon stared. 'The old man has gone insane.'
"Don't give me that look. It's the truth," Aegnor chuckled, noticing his son's skepticism.
Aeon remained doubtful.
Even with skilled spatial mages, a continental journey took at least fifteen years—one way. Only an archmage could shorten such a voyage, and even then, their carrying capacity was far too limited to make it practical, not to mention how rare archmages of space magic were.
"You're sure it wasn't dwarves… or gnomes?" Aeon pressed.
"The barrier lifts in six months. Soon, the truth will reveal itself," Aegnor said, smirking faintly. "Perhaps one day, you'll see it with your own eyes."
But Aeon, already feeling a headache coming on, brushed past his father, intent only on gathering the books he needed to prepare for his first year at school.